Tag: ski

Cool, Daily Life

It Seems Obvious

I’ve determined that the answer to all self-improvement is to video yourself. You’d think I’d be smart enough to remember this, but yet again, I had to have it illustrated to me by the power of video. Let me explain. Way back when dinosaurs roamed the earth I thought I was a pretty good skier. I skied on a long pair of race skis a buddy sold to me. 213’s with zero sidecut and extremely stiff. I’m sure I bought them to look cool vs being actual decent skis. Since the damn things didn’t turn worth crap, my only choice was long swooping turns at ludicrous speed. I got pretty good on those rockets. Ankles locked together, flow and balance were the ticket to looking fly and graceful. Throw in a mullet haircut and I thought I was the bomb.

Over the years the amount of skiing I did ebbed and flowed. I didn’t get serious about it again until about four years ago. Last year I made some big improvements in confidence as I spent more time in the trees and ‘off-piste’ as the fancy Europeans say. This year I finally splurged on actual decent ski pants so I wouldn’t look like a garage sale reject. All-in-all for most of this season I’ve been convinced that, not only am I stylish, but I’m approaching expert status on the slopes.

A week ago I decided to make a short ski video to practice filming in the snow. Mostly I wanted to see what camera angles worked and what didn’t. As I reviewed the footage, a flicker of doubt crept into my head. My skiing didn’t seem quite as graceful as I would have expected. It was hard to tell since I was filming myself, but it planted an uneasy feeling that maybe I wasn’t as good as I thought.

And then a few days ago, a friend filmed me skiing down a long run. When he showed it to me I was horrified. That person I saw skiing bore no resemblance to what I thought I was doing. I was convinced I was making beautiful, high speed carving turns. What I saw was a bunch of short, ugly, skidding turns with chattering skis. My balance was horrible and I looked distinctly uncomfortable. How could this be?

It drove home something I discovered with golf. What you think you’re doing has nothing to do with what you’re really doing. Video is the truth teller.

The reality is that what I saw was a mediocre (at best) intermediate skier working way too hard to get down the hill. I’m not sure how or when that happened. Have I always skied that way and just didn’t realize it, or have my skills simply declined with age? I’m not sure, but at least now I know the cold hard truth. I’ve spent much of the day watching lessons on YouTube and comparing my footage. I now at least understand what I’m doing wrong. The question is can I fix it myself or will it require lessons? The answer is probably lessons, but it’s so late in the season is it worth it? That’s a question for another blog I suspect.

What’s important is that with golf, skiing, and even some speaking mannerisms – I wouldn’t have known what I was doing without seeing myself on video. It’s hard because I cringe when I see myself, which is why I tend to avoid the camera as much as possible. But I’m now realizing how valuable that feedback is.

I am now convinced that we should all see ourselves frequently on film. How we dress, walk, talk, and do sports will benefit from a reality check. I guarantee that what you think is happening is not real. If you want to improve at anything, you need to see visual proof.

Find a decent coach. Take lessons. Get video feedback.

It seems obvious, but most of us don’t do it. And then we wonder why it takes us so long to get better at something. Or maybe that’s just me…

Cool, Health, Motivation

End Of A Season

And just like that, it’s over. The last day of the ski season. It happens every year. Most years, by the end I’m kinda meh. Ready for golf and mountain biking. But not this year. This was a fantastic ski year for me. The snow was amazing – more powder days than I’ve ever had. And close to record levels of snow (global warming, of course). But it wasn’t just the conditions that made it great. I made a fundamental leap in my skiing ability this year.

Interestingly, it wasn’t my skill that improved – it was my confidence. Up to this point, I’ve often let fear control what sort of runs I ski down. I’d look at a line through the trees or a black diamond run on the map and manage to talk myself out of trying it. I’d spend most of the season skiing the same runs over and over. The only exception would be when I’d ski with someone better than me who’d assure me, I would have no problem skiing a new run or line. That would be the only time I’d try something unknown.

But something happened at the beginning of this season. After thinking about, contemplating, and worrying about a new area I’d wanted to try – I finally told myself, fuck it, we’re going to do it. What’s the worst that could happen? And sure enough, I had the skill to do it and had a blast. That boost in confidence opened up a whole new world for me.

All season long I’ve been on a mission to ski the entire mountain. Every time I tried a new line through the trees, I’d discover an entire new area I never knew existed. It’s been an absolute blast. Probably the most fun I’ve had skiing. And with each new run, my confidence soared.

I’m ending this season with the knowledge that I can ski the entire mountain (with some crazy exceptions involving cliffs and chutes). There isn’t any place I don’t have the confidence to go. It’s an amazing feeling. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not always pretty. There’s been a few lines that were more survival than skiing. But I got down. And there’s been a few yard sale wipeouts for sure. But I did it.

And now for the first time ever, I have goals for next season. I want to make that next big jump in ski ability. It’s time to move from average intermediate skills to expert. I’ve never before felt like that was possible for me. Now I do. If I work hard physically this summer to get ready, I’m sure I can make that leap in ski ability. The plan is to start next season in the best shape possible and take some lessons right away.

It’s exciting to have a new goal. Skiing has always been just something I do. I enjoy it, but it’s been routine for as long as I can remember. Like going for a hike. I enjoy it, but I certainly don’t get excited about it. This year changed it for me.

I finished my last day of the season with a powder day. Amazing to think we’re still having powder days in April. I spent my day skiing all my favorite lines. I tried one steep new line through the trees. I joked with a few of the lift operators. The resort was mostly empty, so I was often the only one on the run. It was quiet in the trees. Towards the end of the day the clouds rolled in, snow started falling, and visibility dropped.

I stopped halfway down my last run and just listened to the wind. I looked around at the mountains surrounding me and watched the snow falling. I’m grateful I live in a place where I can do this. I’m super stoked to see what I can accomplish next year.

205 runs and 298.1K vertical feet skied. It was a good season.

Motivation, Travel

Get Off The Main Road

Are you someone who sticks to the main road, always following the route Google Maps gives you? Or are you willing to wing it and explore the backroads? A few weeks ago, I wrote a bit about pushing my limits skiing. One of the things I’ve noticed about myself, when it comes to skiing, is that I mostly stick to the main runs. I tend not to venture into unknown territory unless I’m with someone who’s been there before. I like the security of knowing exactly what type of run it is and where it leads to.

But as I said in that previous post, I’ve made a vow this year to push my limits and explore more. I’ve started going in and out of the trees and venturing into terrain I wouldn’t normally try. I’m loving it. It’s also scary. I’m not that great of a skier, so the possibility of getting myself into trouble is high. Even though my confidence is rapidly improving, I still question myself.

Yesterday was one of those days when I decided I was going to explore an area of the resort I’d never been to. I spent a couple of runs skirting the area and scouting it out from the chairlift. The terrain was hard to see, so I couldn’t judge if it was above my skill level. Was I going to end up down in some gulley, or would I inadvertently ski out of bounds?

I wrestled with those thoughts and the asked myself, what’s the worst thing that could happen? And the answer was that I’d have to take my skis off and hike a bit. So off I went. You can already guess the outcome. It was awesome! I now have a whole new area to explore. Why in the world didn’t I do this before? And suddenly, as I skied other areas of the resort, I started seeing new trails and areas I’d never noticed before.

There’s nothing wrong with using Google maps to get you from point A to point B. But if you never get off the main road, you’ll never know what you might be missing.

You’re only here once, so you might as well explore.

Cool, Daily Life, Motivation

Extreme Sports, Attempted

I’m not sure what I was thinking. I suspect my improved leg strength gave me a false sense of skill. Regardless of how it started, I found myself panting heavily, staring down at a series of steep drop-offs and surrounded by cliffs. How did I get myself in this predicament? Too late to back out, nothing to do but take a deep breath and 3..2..1… go.

Let’s rewind to the beginning. I am an average skier. A rockstar on the intermediate groomers, more tentative on the steeper stuff, a disaster in the crud and moguls. My problem is that I really, really like the idea of skiing in the trees. Off-piste as the Europeans would say. I just can’t figure out how to get good at it. I watch others flow through the trees and smoothly navigate big bumps and obstacles. Me on the other hand on the same terrain – a series of awkward hop turns, sliding, skidding, often ending up in a snow covered, contorted upside-down position.

This year I vowed to master the off-piste. To be one of those guys flowing through the trees. I started out with vastly improved strength, due to the time I’ve spent in the gym. That new-found strength has given me the confidence to ski hard, all day. I’ve been fortunate to be able to ski every 2-3 days, which has certainly improved my form. I started making small forays into the trees and seeking out ungroomed snow. As my skill improved, I started eying a valley known as an “experts only” area. One of the groomed runs borders the area and I kept flirting with the edge and eying the trees and chutes in the valley.

A few days ago, we had a big powder dump. I got to the resort early and did a few warm-up laps on the groomed runs. Finally, I skied down the run bordering the off-piste area and stopped at the edge. I spent quite a bit of time looking down and going over in my head what could go wrong if I dropped in. Eventually I told myself that I’d never know If I didn’t try.

Down I went. And it was awesome! While I don’t know if I was actually flowing through the trees, I handled it without any problems. I spent the rest of the day dropping in and playing in this new playground. I had a blast. The next day I skied with friends who stick to the groomers. I spent that whole day diving in and out of trees bordering the runs, seeking out all the crud and powder remnants I could find. My confidence was through the roof!

Yesterday we had another overnight snow. I hit the slopes and warmed up with a few runs. I was going to drop in where I spent the other day, then thought to myself why not drop in from the very top? With my newfound confidence, I rode the lift up and traversed around to the entrance of the expert area. There were ominous signs posted indicating this was an area for experts only and ski patrol was limited. I paused for a moment, but my excitement over my new skills won out. I went through the gates.

Things went bad from the beginning. The “trail” was a very narrow, slick, twisting route full of bumps and awkward off-camber turns. My speed was increasing, but I had no way to slow down as the trail was too narrow to turn or even snowplow. I was now flying along, borderline out of control, and definitely did not want to slide off the edge. Up ahead I spotted a wider spot in the trail and did a hard slide to bleed off speed. Unfortunately, immediately around the corner the trail turned steeply uphill and I no longer had the momentum to make it up. I came to an awkward stop on the edge. Fuck.

Now I was stuck. No way to get my skis off and hike anywhere. My only choice was down. I was looking down a narrow chute with trees at the bottom and unknown terrain below that. It took a while to get my breathing under control. I will say, committing to that first jump turn was one of the harder things I’ve done. I made my way down the chute. Jump turn. Slide, slide, jump. Over and over.

Finally, I reached the trees. This was a little easier, but there were steep cliffs everywhere and I couldn’t always tell if the edges I was skiing up to were vertical or navigable. I kept traversing across the slope, dropping down in places my skill allowed me to make turns. Eventually I made it to the wide open part of the bowl and terrain I could handle. I was drenched with sweat and my thighs were quivering.

I turned around and looked back up at what I had come down. I realized I’d come down a double black diamond called Chinook Chute. Probably one of the hardest areas in the resort. Wow. I couldn’t believe I’d done that. I started feeling pretty proud of myself. It was ugly and more sliding and slipping than actual skiing. It certainly won’t make any Warren Miller ski film highlights, but I did it and managed to not crash.

If you told me at the beginning of this season I’d be going down that, I wouldn’t have believed you. Trust me, I’m in no hurry to go back up there. It really is above my skill level. But… I’m not that far off.

The lesson is that you are capable of way more than you think you are. All it takes is the willpower to try. Yes, you may crash and burn. But if you don’t try, you’ll never know.

My problem is balancing my age, true skill, and good decision making with my new-found ego. I need to remind myself that I’m no longer twenty. At this stage of my life, do I really need to be flirting with cliffs and double black diamond runs? Probably not.

But man, it felt good to accomplish that. Hmm… maybe I could become that guy effortlessly floating through the trees?